I’m really struggling with this week’s blog. There has been so much going on that my head is literally swimming. We’re parked out front of our property in our house on wheels and living like vagabonds; something we always thought would be exciting, but it is far from glamourous.

We were unable to get any utilities set up before we got here because we used poor judgement with the first contractor, so we’re winging it. We’re using a generator for power and if you’ve never used one, you wouldn’t be privy to the loud, raucous noise that has become part of my world these last four days. We are filling our 40-gallon reservoir with water we’re getting from the neighbours, one five-gallon tank at a time, plus we’ve got a sewage company coming in once a week to pump out our black and grey water.

The walls are paper thin, and because the window frames are metal and sweating from the difference in temperatures, there is no way to seal them with plastic to try and keep the heat in. I could turn the heat up, but we only have two small propane tanks and we need to conserve. I’m a chicken and won’t even ride in the car when there are propane tanks in it, let alone drive it and taking Gary away from clearing the land isn’t an option. Needless to say I’m freezing and that’s not like me at all.

I’ve been having a lot of trouble sleeping because my mind is playing tricks on me. It’s been telling me that the person that said, “maybe it’s time someone just made it stop;” when it came to me telling my story, is going to find me, out here in the middle of nowhere – and make it stop. It’s been telling me that these walls are really thin and it wouldn’t be hard to just do a drive by with a machine gun, and make me “stop.”

I know, I know – I’m catastrophizing, and in case you haven’t noticed, it’s what I do. Having PTSD has made me so good at taking a good situation and turning it into a bad one; one in which I get hurt. I just couldn’t convince myself that I was safe, but all that changed around two thirty this morning.

I was pacing, and trying to talk myself down. I had to resist the urge to crank the tunes and dance, because it was late and Gary was trying to sleep, but I had to get out of my head! I tried meditating, but my mind was way too busy, so I tried out some of the Tai-Chi moves I’ve learned, and that’s when I had an epiphany!

Drum roll please… I love the drum roll!

Since I started talking about it, I’ve had over ten thousand people follow me on Twitter and Facebook and although a lot of my followers don’t know my story, a lot of them do, and I believe it would be hard for my abusers to do any (more) harm to me and get away with it. Between the plethora of threatening emails, and the derogatory comments on my website, I know that the first people the authorities would look at, would be my abusers.

And I know that doesn’t save me, but it’s important for me to know that I haven’t lived, or died in vain and I realized in that moment that “they” can no longer harm me without the world knowing and I feel incredibly empowered.

; I'm Still Here!

; I'm Still Here, is a guide to living with and surviving PTSD - post traumatic stress disorder. It is a true story written by a survivor describing the symptoms, triggers and treatments that are currently available.

Please feel free to leave a comment, even if it's an anonymous one, but make sure you write anonymous, or your alter-ego's name when it asks for your name. Otherwise it won't post. Thank you for your interest.